


The Perfect Birthday

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, POV Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Surprise Party, Surprises, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4841594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly’s birthday falls on Valentine’s Day, and for her birthday after her engagement ended most of her friends assume she doesn’t want to celebrate or be reminded of the holiday. </p><p>Most of them. </p><p>Not all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amberowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberowl/gifts).



> So today is my friend **Amberowl** 's eighteenth birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!) and I offered to write a present. The prompt she gave me was " _What about Molly having birthday, and she’s convinced that Sherlock doesn’t know about it, but he figured it out, of course, and prepared a surprise for her?_ " I had a ton of fun with this one. It literally just wouldn't end and I was sad when it did actually end. But anyway, sweetie, I hope you love it. ::hugs and kisses::

She had to admit, after her engagement to Tom had ended she found herself looking less forward to her upcoming thirty-fifth birthday. She had the misfortune of having her birthday fall on Valentine’s Day, so the few men she’d been dating around her birthday would combine her birthday and Valentine’s Day dates around the same time, most of the time because they were rather cheap bastards. Tom had been the first who hadn’t, which she had thought had made him special.

But he was gone now, and she had no one to celebrate with, she realized as the day got closer, because all of her friends just assumed she didn’t want to be reminded of Valentine’s Day. It made her feel absolutely miffed that they didn’t know her well enough that they’d think she’d want to do something a few days before her actual birthday to get her mind of the damn holiday. Valentine’s Day was not the end all, be all of her February.

But it was to theirs, she supposed. Somehow she had become the only single girl in her group of friends and oh, how she loathed that position.

She woke up on her birthday, determined to do something to make the day decent. She decided to dress nicely, even if it was for herself. To treat herself to breakfast. To get the lunch she usually denied herself. To go somewhere expensive for dinner. To buy herself something luxurious. If her friends couldn’t be bothered to give a damn on her behalf then she’d give a damn for herself.

She picked out her outfit with care, settling on a high boat necked cherry print dress with a red patent leather belt at the waist. She didn’t normally wear a dress to the morgue, but she’d done all the scheduled autopsies so it should be a rather light day of paperwork and writing her research paper and working on the lecture Stamford wanted her to give. If there was an autopsy to do…well, today she could put it off for someone else to do, unless it was one of Greg’s, and then she’d do it for him because he was her friend.

She wore her red coat with it, slipping it on before opening the door, and then she stopped. In front of her door was a basket. Not a gift basket, but a picnic basket. There was a note with her name on the front folded in half on top of it. She pulled the note off the basket and then opened it, reading it. _Happy birthday,_ it read. _You’ve been gifted with a paid day off to spend at your leisure, starting with this breakfast filled with your favorites. More surprises will be dropped off for you later._

She smiled as she refolded the card and picked up the basket. She could smell all sorts of wonderful scents wafting up, and when she took it to her table after shutting the door behind her she saw whoever had dropped it off had gone to Gail’s Artisan bakery. Her smile widened as she pulled out containers and surveyed her breakfast: pear & berry bircher muesli, shakshuka, London smoked salmon, avocado salsa and a few pain au chocolats and cinnamon buns. There was also an insulated cup of coffee inside as well. Oh, she was going to be absolutely stuffed by the time she was done eating all of this, but a fried egg would be the perfect addition.

She set the basket on her table and went to go fry up an egg, and then took the egg to the table. She began serving herself up some of the food and then dug in, savoring every bite. It was absolutely scrumptious. She had just finished her food when there was a knock on the door. She went to the door and opened it, seeing no one there but seeing a thick envelope. She picked up the envelope and took it inside, opening it and seeing it was filled with photographs from her closest circle of friends, John and Mary and Greg and Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock. She took them to the sofa and tucked her legs up under her, going through them and smiling them. Some of these she had seen but most were new. Thankfully a lot of them didn’t involve Tom or times when Tom had been around, and so she was smiling as she looked through them. After a little bit she decided to break out her scrapbooking supplies and start making a few pages for a few of the photos.

She got so into it that she was startled when there was another knock at her door a few hours later. She glanced at her watch and saw it was noon. Time really had flown, she realized. She walked over to the door and opened it, seeing a man there in a suit with a driver’s cap on. “Dr. Hooper?” he asked.

“Yes?” she said, giving him a smile.

“I’ve been instructed to take you to meet your friend Mrs. Watson for lunch at Wahaca, at the Covent Garden location,” he said with a smile.

She felt her grin grow even wider. She should have known Mary was behind all of this. “Let me grab my coat, then.” She slipped her coat back on and then followed the driver out to the car. It was a very nice car, similar to the ones Mycroft had used to have her absconded off the streets. The driver opened the door and she slipped into the back seat. After a few minutes the driver began to pull away and soon enough she arrived outside of the restaurant. Mary was standing there, giving her a wave. “Oh, this is a brilliant surprise!” she said excitedly.

“Did you think I did this?” Mary asked, reaching over to give her a hug when she got close enough.

“Well, didn’t you?” she asked, a frown edging on her lips.

Mary shook her head. “Oh no, this is so not my idea,” she said with a laugh. “This whole day was Sherlock’s idea.”

Molly blinked. “What?”

“He found out your favorite breakfast when we go out to eat, and he already knew how you take your coffee. And he asked all of us to get all of those pictures for you. Lunch today has been taken care of, whatever we spend. And there are a few other surprises, too,” she said.

Molly was stunned. Sherlock had seemed so wrapped up in what was going on with Moriarty and…and, well, he’d never bothered to celebrate her birthday in all the years he’s known her _before_ , so this was a huge surprise. A pleasant one, of course, but a surprise nonetheless. “I see,” she said.

“Come on. Let’s get in and get some of the delectable smelling food. I’m _starved_ ,” she said, rubbing her still pregnant belly.

Molly snapped out of it and they went inside. It really did smell delectable, she thought, and she and Mary were seated fairly quickly. Molly had never eaten there before and she studied the menu. They started with frijoles and tortilla chips to split, and in the end decided to try a little bit of everything, doing the street food offerings. Mary insisted she was starving so they got the pork pibil and plantain tacos, the sweet potato & feta taquitos, pea & mint empanadas, a chorizo & squash quesadilla to split, and Molly got two salmon sashimi tostadas as well. If they had room left, Mary wanted to try the buñuelo with Tommi’s tomatillo jam and Molly was interested in the honeycomb chocolate bites.

“So tell me more about my surprises,” Molly said, taking a sip of her passion fruit margarita.

“I’m not supposed to,” Mary said with an impish grin. “But I will tell you that next up is a play that Sherlock thought you might enjoy, all things considered. We have matinee tickets to see ‘The Play That Goes Wrong’ at the Duchess Theatre. It’s a comedy about a dramatic society trying to put on a murder mystery and everything goes wrong.”

Molly chuckled. “Oh, that does sound right up my alley.”

“Well, it’s at 2:30, so we have to be done here by two to get there in time to get to our seats.” Mary picked up her Mockolada and took a sip, studying Molly. “He cares about you a lot.”

“I didn’t realize how much,” she said. “I mean, he set all of this up for me and I had no idea.”

“Well, you and I had talked and I’d heard how all of your other friends were acting. I was just going to see about throwing a small dinner party for you tonight but Sherlock said no, he’d handle it,” Mary said. “He wanted to make sure you had a good birthday this year, all things considered.”

“I’m glad,” she said with a smile. “I’m quite lucky he’s my friend.”

“I think you’d be quite lucky if he was more than that,” Mary said. “Friends don’t go to these lengths. People who care in a more than friendly way…they do.”

Molly took another sip of her drink and mulled that over. She supposed she should admit that a very large part of the reason her engagement had ended, though not the largest part, was she hadn’t been able to let Sherlock go completely. She’d never expected anything with him, but she knew until she could let him go completely she had no business starting or being in a relationship with anyone else. If Sherlock really did care, then perhaps she should at least see. Where would the harm be?

They enjoyed their meal at the restaurant and then made their way to the theatre and sat down for the play. It was quite hilarious and she found they both left with huge smiles on their faces. Mary slipped Molly an envelope that had a prepaid Visa card with five thousand pounds on it. This, she said, was a gift from Mycroft, who did not want to be a part of the proceedings but wanted to contribute, and so he had booked a reservation for dinner somewhere nice and felt Molly should dress accordingly. Mary told Molly her own outfit was stowed safely in the boot of the car driving them around and she’d get ready at Molly’s so they could make their grand entrance together.

They hit the shops and Molly found a stunning sapphire blue dress made of many layers of a light gauzy material that had a modest V-neck and was gathered at the waist with a diamond-like crystal band. She felt so elegant when she put it on and Mary immediately gave it two thumbs up After a little more shopping she found a modest Swarovski crystal bracelet to match and strappy silver heels. Mary insisted she have her hair done professionally for the evening and she went a little bold with her look, having her hair cut by a good six inches and professionally straightened, as well as colored to a more reddish tone.

When they were done they went back to Molly’s home and got ready, and then the driver took them to their final destination of the night. Molly’s eyes widened as they arrived at Hibiscus. “It’s impossible to get into here,” Molly said, leaning over to Mary.

“Well, not only did we get in, but apparently we got the Chef’s Table for the six course meal,” Mary said with a grin.

Molly’s eyes widened even more, if that were possible. “I’m never going to be able to make this up to Sherlock or Mycroft.”

“Well, Mycroft, yes, but I don’t think you need to,” Mary said as someone moved to take the two of them to the wine cellar. “But Sherlock…offer to make it up to him by cooking him his very own special dinner this week, when he’s free. And insist he take you home and then snog the hell out of him. I think that will be more than enough for him.”

Molly smiled slightly and shook her head. When they got to the wine cellar they saw Sherlock and John there, as well as Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. Canapés were being served but Molly found she was quite transfixed by the sight of stunned appreciation on Sherlock’s face. “Mary told me everything,” she said, hesitating a moment before going up and kissing his cheek softly. “This was the perfect birthday.”

“I…I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said quietly as he seemed to collect himself. He pulled a chair out for her. “Would you like to sit down?”

She nodded and then sat down, pleased that he sat next to her. Mrs. Hudson was on her other side while Mary sat across from her with John and Lestrade on either side of her. Mary took control of the conversation quickly and soon all of them were chatting quite easily, even Sherlock, enjoying all the fine food that they were being served. As the evening was winding down and they were lingering over the dessert courses the presents were brought out and Molly unwrapped them, thanking her friends profusely for everything. Soon, however, the food was gone and everyone was beginning to leave. She moved over to Sherlock. “Could you help me get all this home? I think John and Mary want some time alone, and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson seemed quite eager to leave.”

“They did, didn’t they?” he said. Then he nodded. “All right.”

“And…maybe you’d like to come in for coffee and chat for a bit?” she asked hopefully. “I mean, if you don’t have plans, or if you don’t need to be up early tomorrow.”

“I have no plans tonight,” he said. They began gathering up the gifts and then took them to the waiting car, loading them into the boot before slipping into the backseat. Sherlock looked a little nervous. “Mary told you everything?” he asked once the car started moving.

“Almost,” she said. “I mean, she said you took charge of planning all this. She just didn’t say why.”

He looked out the window. “I…care for you, a great deal,” he said quietly. “And I’ve seen you getting sadder and sadder as the day got closer. You once told me I looked sad when John couldn’t see. You do the same thing. You try to put up a front, but you aren’t very good at it. You tend to wear your heart on your sleeve, which is a good thing. And I found out your birthday was the same day as this holiday and your so-called friends were doing nothing for you and I thought that was appalling so I made sure you had a…nice day.”

“This was beyond a nice day,” she said, reaching over for his hand and grasping it. He looked at their hands for a moment, then at her, seeing she had a smile on her face. “Sherlock, honestly, this has been one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had in my life. I didn’t even think about the fact it was Valentine’s Day or I was single once. It was perfect, really.”

“So I did a good job?” he asked.

She hesitated a moment, then moved closer, leaning in and kissing him softly. It was a soft kiss on the lips, one that he could do more for if he chose or not, but when he didn’t she pulled away after a moment. “You did an excellent job.”

She started to move away but he reached up, caressing her face gently. She moved a hand to his hip, keeping her touch light as he ran a thumb across her cheekbone. “I suppose a kiss isn’t a very good gift, after everything else,” he murmured.

“It depends on who it’s from,” she said. “A kiss from you would be the perfect gift.”

He nodded just slightly before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers again, a bit hesitantly, and when she moved closer he seemed to take that as encouragement. She opened her mouth for him slightly and he deepened the kiss, not letting her pull away until they were both breathless, resting their foreheads against each other. “So that was an acceptable gift?” he asked.

She grinned and leaned in again. “As long as I get more than just the one, absolutely,” she said before kissing him again. She hadn’t expected her day to turn out this way or to end the way it had but it seemed as though some long held birthday wishes had finally come true, and that was more than she ever could have hoped for.


End file.
